


True Control

by White_Rainbow



Series: First Imperial Order (Imperial!Hux AU) [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftercare, Dirty Talk, Dom Tarkin, Dom/sub, Humiliation, M/M, Paddling, Secret Fluff if you squint real hard, Spanking, Sub Krennic, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:51:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rainbow/pseuds/White_Rainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second one-shot in the First Imperial Order series. These one-shots can be read individually.<br/>Takes place in the Empire during Rogue One/Episode IV. Armitage Hux is a Major General and a sub of Krennic. Krennic however is also a devout sub to Tarkin. </p>
<p><b>Chapter Excerpt:</b><br/><i>"True control, I find, comes easier with a gentle touch than a hard strike. A sharp tongue is more persuasive than a knife's edge.</i>- Tarkin on the first night he claims Krennic.<br/><br/>"I have heard,” Tarkin began, his Imperial accent clipped and sophisticated, “you refer to our young general as ‘boy’ while you train him into submission. Is this correct?”<br/>Krennic swallowed. He had never kept his sexual conquest of Major General Hux a secret, but to be confronted like this...he wondered why Tarkin inquired about it now.<br/>“Yes, sir,” was all he could say.<br/>“And tell me,” Tarkin leaned forward in his chair, “what makes you think you are better than him, pup?"<br/>Tarkin's fingers caressed Krennic’s jaw. The grand moff applied only the smallest amount of pressure against Krennic's chin urging the director to rise on his knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgentGale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentGale/gifts).



> This is a gift to ArgentGale who I somehow tricked into loving Tarkrennic as much as me! If we are the only two a part of this level of Hell at least we will be together :3 Enjoy!

_ "True control, I find, comes easier with a gentle touch than a hard strike. A sharp tongue is more persuasive than a knife's edge." _

These words were the first Grand Moff Tarkin uttered to Orson Krennic the night Tarkin took possession of him. They echoed in his head now as Krennic knelt before the grand moff in his quarters.

Tarkin sat in his throne-like chair, his lean body relaxed, though perfectly postured. The sharp features of his face deepened as he studied Krennic at his feet.

"I have heard,” Tarkin began, his Imperial accent was clipped and sophisticated, “you refer to our young general as ‘boy’ while you train him into submission. Is this correct?”

Krennic swallowed. He had never kept his sexual conquest of major general Hux a secret, but to be confronted like this...he wondered why Tarkin inquired about it now.

“Yes, sir,” was all he could say.

“And tell me,” Tarkin leaned forward in his chair, “what makes you think you are better than him, pup?" 

Tarkin's fingers caressed Krennic’s jaw. The grand moff applied only the smallest amount of pressure against Krennic's chin urging the director to rise on his knees. His lips grew close to Tarkin and he inhaled the intoxicating scent of lavender and fresh linens from his grand moff. He licked his lips and leaned forward, hoping to nip at the man’s cruel mouth. 

Krennic leaned forward. “Please,” he whimpered. It had been ages since he had been this close to his grand moff. It had been too long since he had earned this powerful man’s praise. And he starved for it now. 

Tarkin pulled away and sneered. "Imagine your boy general seeing you like this, pup. So eager to please. On your knees begging to be told what to do." A blush rose to Krennic’s face. Shamed, he pressed his lips against Tarkin’s hand, his wet lips brushing over each knuckles.

"Shall I have the boy come here?” Tarkin asked, “Shall he watch you rut against my leg while you please me? Would you like him to see his director reduced to nothing but a mere toy for my amusement?"

"If...if that is what you wish, grand moff." Krennic said, turning Tarkin’s hand to kiss his wrist.

Tarkin smirked. "You truly would do anything I ask. It makes me wonder just how well you have trained your boy general. Perhaps, I may trade you for him. Perhaps he will prove to be an even more obedient toy than his director." 

The dangerous look Krennic flashed at Tarkin was met with those cruel fingers grasping his chin, forcing him to look into those cold grey-blue eyes. "I could tie you this very chair leg, and make you watch me slide him onto my lap. He could show me everything he does to entertain you. And I am sure I could teach him a few more things even you will not do for me."

Jealousy burned like an inferno within Krennic’s belly. The thought of his general being stolen away by the grand moff. 

Hux was  _ his.  _ He would never let anyone, not even the grand moff take him away. But more importantly, Krennic belonged to Tarkin. The thought of the general replacing him, trying to please Tarkin the way Krennic only knew how...it was impossible. 

_ I am all the grand moff needs. And I will prove it. _

Krennic knelt up and crawled to the small chest of drawers not far from Tarkin’s throne. He wrapped his lips around the iron ring and pulled the bottom drawer open revealing an assortment of Tarkin’s more... _ special  _ items. Carefully, he wrapped his lips around the long handle of a leather paddle. His ears burned as he returned to Tarkin, on hands and knees, holding it between his teeth. 

Tarkin took the paddle from him. He gave the paddle a loud slap against his palm.  "I wonder, does your boy general take this paddle better than you, pup? Or are you here to prove to me just how low you will sink to remain exclusively at my feet?"

Krennic’s dignity no longer mattered here. He was not the confident, dominant terror of Major  General Hux’s evenings. 

Tonight, he was Tarkin's. 

And only Tarkin's. 

He would let the whole Imperial army watch him degrade himself so long as Tarkin felt fully satisfied by him and him alone. 

Slowly, Krennic rose to his feet. Hands obediently clasped at the small of his back, he bent himself over the grand moff’s knee. Krennics cock pressed hard against Tarkin’s thigh as he rolled onto the balls of his feet, his ass in the air, long arms bracing himself on the other side of the grand moff’s thighs. He shivered as Tarkin glided the leather paddle down his back

Laying the flat of the paddle against Krennic’s ass, Tarkin leaned down and in a low voice asked the director, “Are you ready, pup?"

Krennic nodded. His breath quickened. His body tensed.

The paddle lifted.

Krennic flinched and whimpered. 

The paddle laid gently on his ass again.

"Are you, pup?" Tarkin said again.

The paddle lifted again.

"Yes!" Krennic said quickly, flinching again.

And still no blow came.

The waiting was agony, and Krennic found himself grinding against Tarkin’s thigh as he flinched again and again at the false starts. 

Each time he cried, “yes, please! Please, I am ready.”

When the paddle came down, Krennic was not ready. 

It landed with a loud  _ whack _ , and sharp pain coursed through his tender cheeks. 

A second strike soon followed. And a third. 

Krennic cried out at each hit, but fought hard not to shift or squirm. He wanted to be perfect. He needed to take his punishment before he could earn his reward.

But as time went on he found it more difficult to hold still. At random intervals, Tarkin witheld his punishment. The paddle would raise and Krennic would flinch expecting the next hit only to find no hit would come. The paddle would gently press against his flesh, then lift quickly again. All Krennic could do was whimper helplessly, knowing he could not predict when the next hit would come. And when it did he would moan and buck his hips up, hoping for a second hit, for more pain, not the agony of the unknown. 

"M...more," he begged. "More, please."

He needed the pain. He needed to feel the sensations ripple through him as his cock ached for attention. He needed everything Tarkin was willing to give him. 

"Are you going to come, pup?" Tarkin asked as his thigh shifting back and forth bringing wave after wave of pleasure through Krennic’s throbbing shaft. 

Krennic felt the sweat drip from his forehead as he shook his head. "N...not without your permission, sir."

"Are you quite sure? You feel close. How embarrassing it would be if you came right now. If you painted my thighs and had to force you to lick it all up."

The humiliation heated Krennic’s body as much as Tarkin’s merciless movements. He was growing dangerously close. He could come at any time if he lost any more of his control. 

"I...I won’t, sir." He managed. 

Another strike of the paddle jerked his hips again. He curled his toes and managed to keep himself from soaring over the edge.

Finally, Tarkin laid the paddle against Krennic’s sore ass. The leather stung at Krennic’s raw skin and he lay there panting and flinching reflexively at Tarkin’s every movement. The moff seemed to be reaching for something.

"You're almost done, pup. Just a little longer. You are doing so well. I am so proud of you."

Krennic choked out a soft sob at the praise. "Thank you sir." 

His arms ached, his cock throbbed and his ass stung. He wanted to beg for release the way he makes Hux beg for it. But he stayed silent, wanting to earn his reward the way way he has always earned it: By being Tarkin’s good little pup.

Tarkin’s fingertips delicately grazed Krennic’s inner thighs, applying only the smallest hint of pressure. Obediently, Krennic parted his thighs. 

“Such a good pup,” Tarkin cooed. 

Krennic felt the lubricated handle of the paddle first before realizing he had been waiting while Tarkin oiled it up for Krennic. 

With a helpless moan, Krennic bowed his head...

...And found himself spreading his thighs wider.

Tarkin made a tut-tut sound and placed the tip of the handle against his entrance. 

"Really, director. How shameful it is you are so eager to be humiliated like this. Not a word of protest? You know, perhaps I should have recorded this little session of ours. I would loved to have watched the boy general rub himself to completion watching you moan for... _ this _ ." Tarkin pushed the handle inside Krennic. 

Krennic arched his back and let out a long, desperate moan. He panted wildly, focusing hard on not moving, as Tarkin pushed the handle deep within him until the edges of the flat paddle dug into his raw cheeks.

With the slightest tilt, Tarkin angled the handle just enough to push against Krennic’s prostate. Leaving the paddle there, Tarkin raised his hands. Even as Krennic was drunk from the ecstasy, and swelling with an orgasm he refused to let go, Krennic flinched anticipating another blow. No strike came however, instead, he felt Tarkin’s thighs shake slightly. He turned his head to see Tarkin had taken his own cock into those long sensual fingers and stroked himself vigorously. 

"Come for me, pup.” Tarkin panted. “Rut like the pitiful plaything you are and come for me."

Krennic bucked his hips furiously into Tarkin’s thigh, panting and drooling as he blubbered his gratefulness. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.” he moaned over and over.

The orgasm swelled within him and yet he held on, hearing those delicious moans escape Tarkin’s lips as he pumped his own cock in his hands.

Only when Krennic heard the velvety moans of Tarkin rise above his own, only when he felt hot come spurt onto his back, only  _ then  _ did Krennic allow himself to tip over the edge. His dignity all but decimated as he cried out for his grand moff. 

“W...wilhuff, I’m coming...I’m coming…” 

“That’s it, pup,” Tarkin panted, “come for me.” 

Long strings of pleasure coated Tarkin’s thighs as Krennic let go. Every part of him shuddered, every part of him drained. When the last of the orgasm faded he felt Tarkin gently remove the paddle handle from him. Completely empty and spent, Krennic sank down to the floor, gasping and nuzzling at Tarkin’s thigh gratefully.

A hand caressed Krennic’s sweat-soaked hair, brushing it affectionately off his forehead. Krennic squeezed his eyes shut feeling gratitude well within him. 

“You’ve done so well. I would never think to trade you in for that boy you insist on keeping around.”

Krennic looked up at his grand moff, at his master and commander. “I will rid myself of him if it pleases you, sir.”

Those steel blue eyes looked back at him, slightly glazed, but otherwise their usual hard appraisal. “You are mine.” He said, continuing to pet Krennic’s head. “So long as you stay mine, you may do as you like.”

Krennic kissed Tarkin’s palm gratefully. “I am yours always, sir. I will destroy anyone who dares take me away from you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr! [White-Rainbowff](http://white-rainbowff.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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